


The Letter

by padalelli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Balthazar is like the reader's father just putting that out there, Gen, then Gabriel is like her babysitter sort of idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: First - love your fics. You guys have some pretty neat ideas and your writing skills are God given. My request - The reader is raised by an angel. She knows everything about the God's creation and is an expert in herb lore. The angel gives her a letter which she has to open on her 22 birthday. The angel dies when the reader is only 6. Years after, shortly before her 22 birthday the reader finds the letter and remembers the angel's words. She opens the letter and finds the adress to the bunker..</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> ***reader is 13 when he dies; (born in 1997); this means it is 2019 when she is 22***

You didn't actually remember what happened that night, but Balthazar wouldn't let you forget it.  
_"I picked you up out of the crib in that orphanage you were sent to when your parents died. I adopted you. I raised you. You were my child at that point. Mine. You still are mine. I love you so much, that's why you need to listen to me, okay sweetie?"_ he'd said. You were five, so you just nodded and did as he asked you to. 

That was eight years ago. Now you were thirteen, almost done with the eighth grade and ready to move on to high school.  
You were sitting at the kitchen table studying for your exams and waiting for Balthazar to come home. Suddenly you heard the door slam and Balthazar muttered, "Damn Winchesters."  
"Dad, it's not nice to say that word," you said, a bit of an accent to your voice from growing up with Balthazar.  
Balthazar crouched down by you in your chair. "Who told you that, sweetie?" he asked gently.  
"My teachers at school said cussing is bad," you told him quietly.  
"Don't worry about me saying it, as long as you don't do the same. Promise?" the angel pushed. You nodded and Balthazar mussed your hair as he stood up straight.  
"Who are the Winchesters?" you asked.  
"Don't worry about them. As long as you and I stick together we'll be safe from them," he reassured you. "You remember everything I taught you with the plants?" You nodded again. "You're not going to forget it, right?"  
"Right," you affirmed.  
"I love you very much, [Y/N], you know that, yeah?" he asked.  
"Dad, why are you so worried?" you questioned.  
His brow crinkled. "Who said I was worried?" he asked.  
"If you weren't you wouldn't be acting like this," you pointed out.  
"You're pretty intelligent for a thirteen-year-old," he mumbled, ruffling your hair.  
You squinched your face at him, sticking out your tongue. “Daddy?” you said before he walked out of the room.  
“Yes?” he asked, turning back around to face you.  
“I love you, too,” you told him. 

Later that night, once you had finished studying, you and Balthazar had dinner at the table. You had just stood up to take your dishes to the sink when Balthazar pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket.  
“What’s that?” you asked, placing your dishes in the sink and walking back over to him at the table.  
He slid the envelope over to you. “It’s a letter. You are not to open it until your twenty-second birthday, do you understand?”  
“Why not?” you inquired.  
“Because I want you to finish college before you learn anything about the contents of this letter. I want you to have a choice. Now, do you promise me you won’t open it until your twenty-second birthday?” The angel was very serious.  
“Yes daddy, I promise,” you said shakily, slowly picking up the envelope. You went to your room and put it in the bottom of your sock drawer and by the time you got back to the kitchen, Balthazar had disappeared. “Daddy?!” you yelled, but with no reply. 

You were alone in the house for a week before an angel came to see you. His name was Gabriel. He was Balthazar’s brother, but you were pretty sure Gabriel had been dead for a few months at the least, but then again many angels had thought Balthazar himself was dead for a long time. But the news that Gabriel brought to you was that Balthazar was dead- and for real this time. Balthazar wasn’t coming back. Gabriel told you that you could keep living in the house and going to school and practicing herbology, that every once in a while one of Balthazar’s or Gabriel’s trusted friends would stop by to check on you and do anything you might’ve needed them to do, like sign off on schoolwork and other stuff like that. But you were basically on your own throughout high school. And then college. 

And then once you got out of college, and you were packing up your boxes to move into your own apartment, a new start, you came across an old and worn envelope. You sat down in the midst of your moving boxes in your soon-to-be living room and held the yellowy, frayed envelope in your hands. On the front it said, “[Y/N]”. When you flipped it over to the backside, it said, “On her 22nd birthday”. It was only a few days before you turned twenty-two, so you slid your finger under the edge of the flap and ripped open the adhesive holding the envelope closed. You pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper far cleaner than the envelope it was enclosed in, opening it up. You read it in Balthazar’s voice.

_My Dearest [Y/N],_  
_If I’m fortunate, you’ve survived the apocalypse and done as I asked and gone to university, where you studied either biology or mythology, or even perhaps both. I’m sorry I drove you into those fields, but I assure you it was for your own protection._  
_49.291986, -123.02652_  
_If, despite all my efforts, you find that you aren’t safe, go to these coordinates. Honestly, I don’t know what’s there, but I know that whatever it is, it can protect you._  
_Please be safe, my darling._  
_~B_

You wrote the numbers down on a separate sheet of paper before putting the letter away. You stared at them for the next three days, wondering why the hell Balthazar would give you a set of coordinates. Unable to concoct a reason, you simply went out to your car, entered the coordinates in your GPS, and began driving. 

It was several hours before you reached Lebanon, Kansas, and came to what appeared to be the facade of a factory. It was in the middle of batshit nowhere and as you walked over to the entrance, you wondered just how this could be the safest place on Earth, according to Balthazar. But then again, he did say that even he didn’t know what was at the coordinates. How could he know it was safe for you if he didn’t have a clue what it even was? You tried to open the door, finding that it was locked. You sighed angrily and went back to your car to retrieve some supplies, having anticipated the need to get into something. You blended some herbs together in your palm, and after speaking a few choice words in Latin, you blew the mix towards the door. It cracked open for you, and you ventured inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you think this should be continued!


End file.
